


Before Her Crow's Feet

by dirtypenny (orphan_account)



Category: BBC Sherlock, Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Sherlock - Freeform, martha hutson, mrs hutson, sherlock bbc - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-04
Updated: 2014-01-04
Packaged: 2018-01-07 11:20:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1119231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/dirtypenny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Martha Tullett (she will later be known as Martha Hudson) was born on July 5, 1963 in Louth, Linconshire- a rural little town where one of the most interesting things about it was that one of the Gothic churches was once hit by lightning. Though her name was obviously ‘Martha,’ as written on her birth certificate, the entire town called her ‘Tassle’ because of the rich golden color of her hair that greatly reflected the golden tassels on the summer corn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Before Her Crow's Feet

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, I have failed to find someone to edit my story so please forgive any mistakes made. :c I feel like I kinda just jotted this down at the last moment (I’m sorry if the story reminds you a lot of Forrest Gump, I just watched the movie for the first time and I’m in love. ♥) PLEASE, tell me what you think! Also, I really need a good editor for my story so if you think you would be available sometime to do some editing for me please shoot me a message! Thank you so so so much for reading!  
> *smoochie*
> 
> -Square One

 

Martha Tullett (she will later be known as Martha Hudson) was born on July 5, 1963 in Louth, Linconshire- a rural little town where one of the most interesting things about it was that one of the Gothic churches was once hit by lightning. Though her name was obviously ‘Martha,’ as written on her birth certificate, the entire town called her ‘Tassle’ because of the rich golden color of her hair that greatly reflected the golden tassels on the summer corn.

 

She was a thinker, observing more than participating, but still very sweet and kind to everyone she met. She was the kind of girl who was grew a little too mature a little too fast and so she never really experienced any of the fun that all the little kids had.

 

Martha fancied ghosting her father around, listening as he sang cheerily and aiding him with the farmwork. Every morning when she would wake, her father would brush her hair while telling her stories and then he would fashion it into two braids.

 

“Ready to hit the barn, Tassle?” He would ask cheerily. And Martha would smile and nod, slipping on her boots and squealing as her father would lift her up and carry her all the way to the barn. Mrs. Tullett would always tease them, telling her that it was like she was velcroed to his side.

 

Two days a week they would have a farmers market and Martha and her father would set up their stand and sell their crops, eggs, and meats. Everyone would greet Martha as ‘Tassle’ when they walked by and Martha would smile and say ‘Good morning!” Mr. Crow would always chat with Martha cheerily as he selected potatoes with his bratwurst fingers, asking about how her mother was and if she was doing well and school. Martha was a cheery child, never even considering that Mr. Crow was weird because of his sausage-like fingers and enormous build.

 

Her father was almost like a decoration, everyone mainly talked to Martha.

 

One day when her father had to leave her at the booth to go work on something, a little boy named Aiden walked up to her. Aiden was a cute little boy with a light sprinkle of freckles across his pale Irish face and a lisp like no other.

 

“Hey, Tathle!” He said cordially, setting his elbows down on the table and plopping his head into his hands. Martha imitated him, staring at him with the same interested look.

 

“Hey, Aiden. Want some corn? 3 p a piece.”

 

“Nah, how ‘bout thome green beans? My father loveth ‘em and he’th had a thtrethful day.”

 

“Got a whole basket of ‘em, hold on.” As she leans down to get the basket from under the table, Aiden changes the subject.

 

“Hey, Tathle, when you get older do you want to marry thomeone?” He asked innocently. Martha giggles. “I dunno, maybe.  Why?” She replies, setting the basket of green beans on the stand. She lets Aiden talk as he fills up a bag to his liking of green beans. “Well, you’re a pretty girl and men might get intimidated at the idea of talking to you tho maybe they will jutht marry thomeone elthe inthtead, and then you will be all alone with no one to be with.” Aiden explains keenly.

 

“Mmhm?”

 

“Well, I think you should have thomeone who promitheth to marry you if no one elthe doeth.”

 

“And who would that be?”

 

“Well, I would be more thertainly honored to take the position.” Aiden says proudly, a gleam of hope in his eyes. Martha giggled, “It’s tempting, Aiden, but I think I’m going to have to pass.” She teased, setting the bag of beans on the scale.

 

“Aww, come on, Tathle.”

 

Martha glances up at him for a second and then sighs. “Tell you what, if you can get rid of your lisp and pronounce my nickname right, I’ll marry you, deal?”

 

Aiden's eyes light up, though there's a hint of doubt ridden in his eyes. "You can count on me, tathle!" He says excitedly, smacking down the money and grabbing the beans before running away.

 

Martha watches him for a few seconds, a strange foreboding feeling in her stomach lingering there, unshakable.

 

~*~

 

When Martha was 14 her father had a bad tractor accident while on the job. He was delivered to the hospital, but died shortly after. Martha grew very quiet and felt as if a part of her left, the other piece of velcro had gone and she had difficulty attaching herself to reality. Martha liked to believe she had mourned more heftily for her father’s death, but in truth it was Mrs. Tullett who felt the most misoneism. She had completely changed from being sweet and chirpy, to wild and unpredictable. They moved off the farm, finding a much smaller and messier house on the other side of town. Martha hated the place and woke up every morning wishing to go back to the farm.

 

Her mother, ill fit from not doing farmwork, lost her gift of being wight and soon became more and more desperate for a job. Martha slowly began to give away more and more of her belongings until she was slimmed down to only a few outfits and one nice pair of shoes. She drank a lot more and went out a lot at night, always coming back with a new tear in her clothes.

 

Martha grew very quiet during this time, shutting herself off from other people. One day at school Aiden was having his usual teasing being done when Martha walked by. Martha always defended Aiden no matter what, but today she was too tired and too stressed to even feel a trace of empathy for him.

 

“Tathle! Tell them I’m not hopleth!” He cried out as she began to hurry away with her head bent.

 

“Leave me alone.” Martha mumbled, feeling sickly as she dug her books deeper into the soft flesh of her stomach. “I don’t want to talk to you again.” That night she had gone into a nervous breakdown, puking over and over until her mother forced her to stay outside and retch until she was done.

 

She didn’t talk to Aiden after that, always shifting her eyes away from his cold hurt gaze. She was alone. He was alone. And Martha had never felt more tension in her life. She found that she cried a lot more and more things hurt her. She had become a vulnerable creature who could not rely on her own mother.

 

And then one day, she was just gone. Martha’s mother disappeared, nowhere to be found. The police had a thorough investigation but she was nowhere to be found. Martha was jostled around a lot after that, being put into foster care and forced out of her hometown. Little did she know, the day she left Aiden had held a gun to his hand and done an act he had often dreamed of, only forced away by Martha. It was a quiet funeral, no one ever really bothered to know him. But what Martha didn’t know didn’t kill her, and she’d probably much rather prefer not to know and feel the guilt.

 

She often thought about her mother and father, wondering if she had left Martha on purpose or if the tears in her dresses had finally escalated to something more.

 

After being bustled about from home to home, Martha finally found peace in the little cottage of an old woman named Mage who owned several cheerful cats. She found peace in her solitude and sometimes she would just sit by the window with the her and count the birds that landed in her tulip tree, no words exchanged or glances passed. Just a silent bond of observation.

 

When Martha was 18 she bid her farewells to Mage and spent a few years in college, but only found the work to be too difficult and dropped out. So she found herself a job as a waitress and bought her friends, attending messy parties where the drinks were a little too cheap and the people were a little too friendly. She thought she loved that life, waking up every morning with a hangover but still knowing that she had passed out from joy. She got herself a boyfriend, Lee Hudson. They partied together even when it was only the two of them and smoked even when they knew  that their lungs were already way too frail from joyously shouting.

 

Martha and Lee got married a year later, deciding that since they practically lived together and spent each (naked) waking moment with each other that they might as well be legally bonded. Martha thought this was an act of love. Lee had something else in mind.

 

Once they were married he thought it was an excuse to be rougher and careless with Martha, assaulting her even when she was just trying to eat breakfast. He eventually grew so careless that he found his wife carrying a baby boy and soon fled. And so Martha lived alone, often times just staring out the window and counting the people she’s lost. Once Lee had left she suddenly felt so much regret. Mage had cared for Martha beyond words and this is what she had taken away? Pushing away her past with alcohol and sex, never actually taking the time to come at peace with her past.

 

The baby was born on July 5th and was dubbed with the name ‘Oliver’ after her father. Oliver was born with a severe brain disorder that affected his social and intellectual abilities, but Martha didn’t care. She took Oliver as a chance to start again, to truly care for something, and with Oliver’s difficulties Martha really had to put in a lot of care.

 

Now, I could tell you about all the almost-Hallmark-moments and the family videos, but I think it’s about time I tie it all up.

 

Martha had moved to London when Oliver was 28 and moved out and decided to use the property she had inherited to her own benefit. She became the Landlady of Bakerstreet, “Mrs. Hudson.” There was the place that she had given Sherlock the keys to 221B and there her friendliness with people had finally grown out of her bruised and battered heart. At Baker Street she found her true self, the little girl at the farmer’s market. She reached out to people, accepting even the most suspicious of characters because she never hadn’t when she was a child. With each person she met, she found herself recognizing more and more of herself until she felt so utterly comfortable with the name, “Mrs. Hudson.”

 

But of course, it is always darkest before dawn. Lee had tracked her down and found her there, a slobbering drunk mess. He forced his way into her room, shouting at her, asking why she didn’t kill the child and where he was. Of course, Mrs. Hudson didn’t slip a word of Oliver out of her mouth which just angered Lee more. That’s when he hit her. He hit her countless times, eventually throwing her against the wall and causing what Mrs. Hudson later refers to as her “bad hip.”

 

All the noise woke Sherlock and he ran up to see the source of the violence.

 

Of course, this is where Sherlock ‘insures’ Lee’s death.

 

And so there you have it, Mrs. Hudson before her crow’s feet. She seems like someone you can just pass by, but her adventure is a little more alluring to the ear than predicted.

  
And to this day Martha still had the charm that Aiden had left in her counter when he had slammed down the money- a tiny whittled wooden heart engraved with the word, _“Tassle.”_


End file.
